Zhù Ying looked the young woman who had spoken up and down. She was somewhere in her twenties — bold brows, bright eyes, a head of glossy black hair. Healthy. Her whole person carried a kind of sheen, the sheen of someone well-fed and well-clothed.

The poor, who did not have enough to eat or wear, were dull and lifeless. When people said they had “no oil” on them, it was not a figure of speech but a description of reality. Only those with enough food and clothing carried that faint, soft luster. Anyone with a little experience could size a person up at a glance.

Years ago, when Zheng Xi had wanted her to serve as a runner and low-level clerk, part of his reasoning had been precisely this. Zhù Ying had been poor — but compared to the villagers whose faces were bent to the earth, she had looked considerably better. That was the only reason she had had any opportunity at all. Any plainer, and even that kind of chance would not have come.

Zhù Ying swept a single glance at her and turned away. She cupped her fists to the crowd: “I’ve disturbed everyone. Don’t let gawking at the spectacle get in the way of your day. Go about your business — I’m heading back now.”

She paid the middle-aged couple for the oranges she’d bought from them. The couple was so frightened they didn’t dare accept the money. Zhù Ying smiled: “Don’t be afraid. I’ve taken up half your morning — you haven’t been able to do any business. One basket of yours I’ll pay in coin; the other, in rice.”

She beckoned to the market inspector’s aide, who had been trying to push through the crowd: “Have someone go and fetch Cao Chang — tell him to bring rice to settle the account.”

She stayed there and waited. The county was small; Cao Chang arrived quickly, carrying a cloth sack of rice. Zhù Ying moved to pay the money.

The man, being honest by nature, said: “Five coins for fifty.”

Then he started taking oranges from the basket to count them. Cao Chang said: “That’s just one coin per ten oranges — you could weigh them by the catty instead.”

“Don’t interrupt,” the man said, face crumpling, “wrong, wrong — I lost count…”

Who knew where he had gotten this price, or whether it had been passed down for generations. One coin for ten oranges was very cheap — yet he had been sitting there all morning guarding his load without selling a single one.

Zhù Ying waved Cao Chang off and crouched back down. The market inspector and his aide had been about to say something but fell silent when they saw her crouch. Zhù Ying gradually understood: the man could count, but only barely — he held out one hand, five fingers, two hands for ten. So he could count to ten.

He counted ten oranges carefully, then gingerly took one coin from Zhù Ying’s open palm, gathering it in his lap. Then counted ten more, took another coin.

The crowd around them was watching. Some were talking. The noise of voices on all sides filled his ears and his wife’s with a constant hum. Very carefully, the two of them pinched coins from Zhù Ying’s palm one by one, terrified of accidentally touching her skin. They also feared she would tire of holding her hand out and pull it back — it really was tiring to hold a palm open like that for so long — and the tears were nearly running down their faces.

Zhù Ying’s expression darkened slightly. If the people under her governance counted like this, making Fuklu County genuinely well-governed was going to be very difficult. Literacy was an even more distant world altogether.

She said quietly: “Don’t cry. Count slowly.”

She waited as the man counted out fifty oranges and collected his five coins, then stayed patient and crouched in place. There was still a little left at the bottom of the basket. The man steeled himself: “Magistrate, that’s enough. The basket is yours too.”

Zhù Ying told Cao Chang to hand over the rice: “As agreed — one basket in coin, one basket in rice. This is for you too.”

The man said: “Then — then — young man, please carry this one up.” He sent the basket along with everything else.

Zhù Ying looked at herself: she had ended up with two baskets of oranges. And they — had received five coins, two catties of rice, and thrown in two baskets for free. She looked at what was still in her hand — more than ten coins left — and put them all in the man’s lap: “I ate some too. Take it all. Coming out to sell is not easy.” One look at the clothes told her they were not county-seat residents but village folk from one of the rural townships below, who had carried their oranges in hoping to earn a few coins to buy a little oil and salt — and oil might not even make the list; salt was probably the main goal.

She stood up and said to those still around her: “Why are you all still here? Those who have goods to sell, sell them. Those who have things to buy, go buy. I’m going home to eat my oranges.”

With that, she returned to the county yamen with Cao Chang.

——

Back at the yamen, Zhang Xiangu and Huajie and the others were in the midst of preparing for New Year. The New Year’s Eve was not far off now, and they were busy preparing food and trying on new year clothes.

Since the household had come into a bit of money, Zhang Xiangu had grown more generous in disposition. Seeing young Qi Niangzi — a girl in the bloom of her youth — spending her days between the kitchen and attending to her socially inept father, she took it upon herself to have a new set of clothes made for her as well.

Qi Niangzi declined repeatedly. Zhang Xiangu said: “You’re still at an age where you’re growing — clothes get short before you know it, and they look odd. If you feel awkward, come help us cook a few dishes over the next couple of days.”

Qi Niangzi agreed happily.

Zhù Ying and Cao Chang returned carrying the oranges. Zhang Xiangu saw them and asked: “What have you been up to now? Buying all this?”

Zhù Ying said: “There are so many people in the yamen. One each and they’re gone.”

Zhang Xiangu picked one up, peeled it, and tried a segment. Her face puckered: “Sour!”

Zhù Ying took it back and tried a segment herself. She frowned but swallowed it: “It really is.” Village farmers growing oranges had no quality control; the ones she’d been eating while crouching at the stall were all sweet. Zhang Xiangu had reached in with uncanny precision and picked a sour one.

Zhù Ying said: “Don’t eat any more for now.” She hadn’t expected growing oranges to be so complicated.

Cao Chang said: “I’ll put them over there.”

He set the oranges aside and went off to split firewood. But Zhang Xiangu pulled Zhù Ying aside and asked: “There’s something I don’t like to ask anyone else, and I don’t want to make Huajie overthink — that female Daoist, what’s she doing for the New Year? Should we look out for her a little?”

Since Xiao Jiang had decided to apprentice as a coroner, she was able to move about the yamen more freely. An apprentice coroner’s income was not high, and between the two of them — Xiao Jiang and the little girl — there wasn’t much left over. The New Year was coming, and Zhang Xiangu couldn’t help thinking: “The little girl is still young — shouldn’t she have a new set of clothes?”

Zhù Ying said: “Ma is fond of the little girl, isn’t she?”

“Nonsense!” Zhang Xiangu denied it flatly, thought for a moment, and added: “That child really is a delight. Very cheerful.”

Zhù Ying said: “As it happens, I have an errand for them. If Ma wants to give them something, feel free.”

Zhang Xiangu said happily: “All right!” Then asked what the errand was.

Zhù Ying said: “They’re both on duty at my yamen — is it strange to send them on an assignment?”

Zhang Xiangu felt something was slightly off, but then again — wasn’t her own daughter working even harder? What was wrong with putting someone else to work occasionally? She relaxed and said: “Then I’ll hold off for now. After they’ve finished the errand, I’ll have their clothes made.”

Zhù Ying said: “Fine.”

“But this Xiao Jiang—”

“Ma can think of her the same way as she thinks of Sister Wu and the others.”

“Oh, all right. Her eyes look different from before, I’ve noticed.”

Zhù Ying hadn’t sent anyone specifically to find Xiao Jiang. Xiao Jiang and the little dark girl lived close to the yamen, and since Xiao Jiang was serious about doing the coroner’s work, she spent her free time hanging around the yamen. Fuklu County didn’t have that many female corpses for her to examine, so she sat in the small room beside the mortuary room, memorizing the positions of internal organs from diagrams while waiting for an assignment.

Zhù Ying sent Cao Chang to call her over. Xiao Jiang felt a touch of anxiety and quietly reviewed what she had just memorized, wondering if Zhù Ying was going to test her. She arrived at the front yamen study where Zhù Ying handled day-to-day documents. Zhù Ying said: “There’s something I need you to do.”

Xiao Jiang stood up: “Is there a female corpse somewhere? I’m not very practiced yet — but Magistrate, just give the order!”

Zhù Ying laughed: “Not a corpse. A living person.”

Xiao Jiang let out a small breath of relief. Zhù Ying asked: “Do you know the Zhao Feng household?”

“Yes! His wife is the younger sister of a tribal cave-lord — a very formidable woman. Right now the whole family of three is in the county seat, with ten-odd people in the residence — quite a lively household.”

Zhù Ying said: “Keep a quiet eye on their household. See if there’s a young woman inside — someone in her twenties who catches the eye immediately. She’s dressed like a maidservant, but doesn’t look the part. Observe her. Listen. Best if you can avoid alerting them.”

Xiao Jiang had understood perfectly by this point: “You want me to gather information? Without alerting anyone — just listen?”

“Exactly. But this Mistress Zhao is a formidable person, and the young woman in question is likely no easy mark either. There’s some danger — be careful.” Zhù Ying said.

Using Xiao Jiang was something of a last resort. Sending male constables to tail a young woman was too unseemly. Her own women were trustworthy enough, but there would be barriers to picking up and relaying speech accurately. Only Xiao Jiang — fluent in the local dialect, sharp-witted, and already working at the yamen — was the right fit.

Xiao Jiang smiled: “Magistrate, don’t worry. I have my ways. You’ll see!”

She was still wearing her female Daoist’s robes. Along the way she had been telling people’s fortunes and reciting sutras here and there. She would go out now in that same guise — and even if she was found out, she had an explanation ready: an apprentice coroner’s wages were a bit tight, and she had done a little of this side work when she had first settled in the county seat. She was simply resuming an old occupation and moonlighting.

Zhù Ying said: “Take the little girl along — it’s better to have someone watching your back.”

“Let her stay with Big Sister. She and Big Sister get along well.”

Zhù Ying said: “In two hours it will be dark. If you’re not back in two hours, I’ll come looking for you.”

“Don’t worry.”

Xiao Jiang was genuinely pleased. She didn’t change her clothes. She went home, washed her hands with soap-pod water, took up her horsetail whisk, and walked toward the Zhao residence. She did not go inside the Zhao household but listened quietly from the outside first — listening to what the neighbors were saying. She didn’t knock on any of their doors directly either, but crouched near the back entrances and listened to the maids and hired workers talking among themselves. Servants’ mouths were the loosest, and after listening for some time she had only caught their speculation about whether the Zhao family was planning to stay in the county seat for the New Year.

Someone also mentioned that a few of the Zhao Niangzi’s attendants were “genuinely pretty.”

Xiao Jiang thought: a few? That doesn’t add up. Magistrate Zhù said there would be one who stood out — so there should only be one.

The servants talked for a while and then noticed Xiao Jiang. They asked what she was doing there. Xiao Jiang said: “Trying to earn a little money for the New Year.” One older woman who pitied her limp gave her a few coins and asked to have her palm read. She also told Xiao Jiang: “That look of yours won’t work here.”

Xiao Jiang had mentally braced herself for someone to tell her to “find a man to marry.” Instead, this woman said: “We don’t really go for this sort of thing around here. You’d need to know how to do spirit-calling dances.”

Xiao Jiang laughed softly: “With this leg of mine — think I could manage a dance? What I can do is enough to get by.”

The words came out, and she suddenly felt a wave of lightness. The limp was something she had done to herself, and it had always been a forbidden subject in her own heart. She had thought she would carry this shadow her whole life — and yet, in a few casual exchanges with a stout-armed, big-handed woman, she had said it aloud herself, easily and without effort.

She felt even happier. She sprang up, clutched the few coins in her fist and waved it at the sturdy woman: “Thank you!”

She circled around to the front gate — and ran straight into Zhao Su coming home from school. Zhao Su said: “Aren’t you Jiang Daniangzi? Is there yamen business?”

Xiao Jiang replied first in Mandarin: “Good day, young Master Zhao.” Then she switched to the local dialect: “Yamen business? Oh dear, I’d better head back then.”

The two exchanged a few words. Zhao Su gathered that Xiao Jiang was doing a little side work to earn money for the New Year. He also extended an invitation — would she help him correct his Mandarin pronunciation?

Zhao Su said: “Constable Wu and Cao Chang both speak Mandarin well enough, but they’re always busy with their duties, and the Magistrate is even busier — we wouldn’t dare disturb them too often. Your Mandarin is also very good. Would you be willing to offer some guidance?”

Xiao Jiang said: “I wouldn’t call it guidance exactly. If the young master wants to speak Mandarin, I can say a few words to help. Just tonight is a bit late. Tomorrow I’ll bring the little girl and call on you properly — would that do?”

As she spoke, she stepped back two paces, indicating she was not going to enter the door with a young man at this late hour. Zhao Su said: “That would be wonderful!”

Xiao Jiang said: “When would the young master have time?”

The two were just about to settle on a time when Zhao Niangzi came out from inside and asked: “What’s going on? Standing at the gate without coming in! And — who are you?”

Xiao Jiang gave her a salute: “This poor… that is, I wouldn’t exactly call myself a poor Daoist anymore…”

Zhao Su said in a low voice to Zhao Niangzi: “She’s a traveling female Daoist from the capital. I wanted to ask her to help with my Mandarin.”

Xiao Jiang stepped back another pace: “Mistress Zhao, good day. I won’t take up any more of your time — I’ll come with the little girl tomorrow.”

Zhao Niangzi saw that she was not unattractive-looking and said warmly: “So formal! Come in and have a cup of tea before you go!”

She was quite hospitable and invited Xiao Jiang in for tea and refreshments. Xiao Jiang glanced about and spotted immediately a young woman with bold brows and bright eyes — there were two other fair-complexioned girls nearby, but this one was different. The young woman heard her speaking Mandarin and was very curious: “You’re from the capital? Why did you come here?”

Xiao Jiang said: “A wandering Daoist sees all the world, and I thought while I still had the legs to travel and the years to do it, I’d go and look around. Along the way I came across Magistrate Zhù, and just followed along.”

“Why?”

“Interesting person.” Xiao Jiang said. “Even back in the capital, Magistrate Zhù had solved many cases — very renowned! It’s just that in the capital, even if you wanted to observe closely, you couldn’t. I couldn’t let the chance pass.”

The two of them fell into conversation. Xiao Jiang seemed not to notice that it was odd for a maidservant to be saying this much in her mistress’s presence. But when the sky grew dark, she rose to leave: “It’s dark now — I really must go.”

She settled on a time with Zhao Su, and the next day came with the little dark girl to the Zhao household.

Zhao Su was genuinely eager to improve his Mandarin. Not long after the school term had begun, Zhù Ying had sent Xiao Wu and Cao Chang over for three days and told the students that if either of those two felt what they were speaking was not Mandarin, then it was not. Zhao Su’s Mandarin was among the better ones, but he still had some sounds that weren’t quite right. He was determined to find someone with good Mandarin to correct his pronunciation properly.

Xiao Jiang said: “Mandarin isn’t that difficult — the young master’s Mandarin is already quite good. Just pay attention to a few sounds, and once you’ve worked out the tonal shifts on those, the young master’s Mandarin will be there.” She gave him a lesson and also advised him to pay attention to rhythm — if he wasn’t sure of a sound, he might try learning a few songs to sing silently to himself as a reference. Zhao Su nodded along repeatedly.

Zhao Niangzi had a basket brought over, filled with cloth, meat, and rice, all intended as payment for the teaching. Xiao Jiang pushed back repeatedly and said she’d only take a little rice. Zhao Niangzi said: “I’m not done yet. Your Mandarin is good, and there will be times we’ll impose on you in the future.”

Xiao Jiang accepted at that.

Turning to look, she saw the young woman watching her. Xiao Jiang smiled at her and asked: “Do you want to learn too?”

The young woman said: “Would you teach me?”

“That depends on how fast you pick it up. I have other duties — my free time is limited.”

The two of them, having exchanged a few words, struck up a conversation. The young woman was very cautious — from time to time she would exchange a few words with Zhao Niangzi in a language Xiao Jiang could not understand, then turn back to continue talking with Xiao Jiang.

Over several days at the Zhao residence, Xiao Jiang began with Mandarin practice and amusing stories about learning languages. The young woman found it all very interesting. Then the conversation drifted naturally to how difficult the Fuklu dialect was to learn, but how Zhù Ying spoke it perfectly and naturally — and just like that, the subject turned to Zhù Ying herself.

Xiao Jiang, seeing how interested the young woman was, stared at her with wide eyes and asked: “Why are you asking so much about all this?”

“Same as you. I think a truly capable person must be very interesting.”

Two more days passed. At last Xiao Jiang came face to face with Zhao Feng himself. Zhao Feng was busy making social rounds in the county seat, but he cared enormously about his son’s studies. When he heard his son was seeking help with Mandarin, Zhao Feng made a point of meeting Xiao Jiang. He found her simply dressed, with a disability, and not the kind to exchange flirtatious glances with men, and was entirely reassured. He said a few words of appreciation and promised further payment.

Xiao Jiang said: “I cannot take the credit — the young master is simply intelligent and diligent.”

And on that very day, she overheard the young woman say a single word to Zhao Feng in passing: “Uncle.” And Zhao Feng had responded without thinking. They both glanced at her. Xiao Jiang’s face showed nothing, as though she had heard nothing.

She left the Zhao residence and went straight home. The little dark girl wasn’t there — she had gone to help out at the county yamen again. Xiao Jiang made a deliberate show of asking the neighbors to her left and right, and eventually tracked her way to the county yamen. Then she told Zhù Ying: “Something is definitely up!”

Zhù Ying said: “No rush. Take your time.”

Xiao Jiang said: “I’m in a rush. That woman is Zhao Niangzi’s niece from her natal family — she calls Zhao Feng ‘uncle’ by marriage. It took me several days of effort to get this one result. Who would have thought that young Master Zhao was genuinely trying to learn Mandarin? If he’d been slower…”

“If he’d been slower, you could have charged his family a larger tutoring fee.” Zhù Ying said.

Xiao Jiang laughed: “True! So — is there anything more to find out?”

Zhù Ying said: “This is enough. Don’t do anything further. If Zhao Su feels his Mandarin has improved enough, you don’t have to keep going to his family as a teacher. Safety comes first.”

Xiao Jiang said: “Understood.”

Zhù Ying said: “Good work.”

Xiao Jiang kept smiling: “It was nothing — I got paid for it too!”

“There are more things waiting for you as well — go have a look at the back.”

——

Xiao Jiang followed Zhù Ying to the rear quarters, where Zhang Xiangu was holding up new clothes against the little dark girl to see how they fit.

Zhang Xiangu liked the little dark girl — everyone could see that. The little dark girl liked Zhang Xiangu too and felt at ease with her.

Zhang Xiangu spotted Xiao Jiang and called out: “You’re back? Come — see if you like this.”

In her heart, young girls should wear red and green to look the part. She had made the little dark girl a bright red skirt and made one for Xiao Jiang as well, with a fabric that had golden floral patterns.

Both outfits were already finished — clearly prepared well in advance. The little dark girl’s fit better, being more precisely sized; Xiao Jiang’s had been made by estimation. But anyone with even a little money to spare had their clothes made with extra fabric and room to let out. Xiao Jiang tried it on and it fit well enough.

Zhang Xiangu had formerly felt a vague worry whenever she looked at Xiao Jiang. Now, seeing that Xiao Jiang was no longer always hovering near Zhù Ying and had something of her own to do, she felt relieved — and pressed a generous gift on her: “Take some oranges home to eat.”

Over the past few days, she had learned through trial and error which ones were sour and had become quite expert at picking the sweet ones.

Xiao Jiang thanked her with easy grace. Huajie stood beside Zhang Xiangu. As Xiao Jiang spoke with Zhang Xiangu, she kept her eyes carefully controlled — until the two women happened to look at each other briefly, then each looked away. Neither spoke to the other.

Zhù Ying was peeling an orange and eating it, saying: “There’ll be plenty to eat from here on.”

Zhang Xiangu said: “Exactly — one coin for ten. The price is far too low.”

Zhù Ying looked at them and asked: “Let me ask you all — if I wanted to sell these oranges at a higher price, what price would you be willing to pay? Say, ten coins per catty, or twenty coins, or thirty?”

Wealthy households had staff to do the shopping — but it was ordinary women who went to the market to buy vegetables and cook and manage the household. Zhang Xiangu and Dà Jiě had come from poverty; Qi Niangzi’s life was passable but tight; Huajie had lived a life of relative comfort; and Xiao Jiang was yet another story altogether. Truly a very rich set of perspectives.

Zhang Xiangu said immediately: “Thirty coins? Do they help you live forever?!”

Qi Niangzi also gaped: “I’ve never bought any! And I wouldn’t!”

Huajie thought for a moment and said: “Why do you ask? Have you come up with something?”

Xiao Jiang’s voice was quieter than the others, a little cautious: “Magistrate, are you… looking for someone to take advantage of?”

Life in the pleasure quarters worked that way — prices reported in inflated figures, cheating to the heavens. A pot of wine worth one coin of silver would be sold for three taels. A plate of fruit, if it looked slightly fine, could be marked up tenfold.

Xiao Jiang had a persistent feeling that what Zhù Ying was planning resembled, in some way, the pleasure quarter’s art of fleecing its guests.

Zhù Ying said: “But this is Fuklu County! The oranges grown here aren’t particularly abundant. Say, for example — they’re called Lucky Oranges, and it’s almost the New Year. A household of six people buys a catty or half a catty, each person eats two segments for good luck. Would they buy it or not?”

Huajie and Qi Niangzi both said: “That they would.”

Zhù Ying also asked Zhang Xiangu. Zhang Xiangu frowned, thought about it, and said: “Fair enough.”

Xiao Jiang nodded too. Only Dà Jiě thought it over, grimaced slightly, and said: “A whole catty is too much. One would be about right.”

Zhù Ying said: “Exactly — you could sell them individually too, not too expensive and not too cheap…”

The women were all pleased. Zhang Xiangu and Huajie were happy for Zhù Ying’s sake. Dà Jiě, Xiao Jiang, and Qi Niangzi all felt enormously pleased just to have been consulted by a county magistrate about “an important matter” — even more pleased than Zhang Xiangu and Huajie.

Qi Niangzi said: “Then Fuklu County will get rich quickly! And Magistrate will be able to go back to the capital soon.”

Xiao Jiang thought for a moment and said: “Send some to the capital! If noble people in the capital give their nod of approval, that would really be…”

Zhang Xiangu and the others were also excited. Zhù Ying shook her head: “No.”

Huajie asked: “Is it because the oranges are too few, or because there are too many powerful people who wouldn’t listen, or are you afraid of someone causing trouble?”

Zhù Ying said: “Do you all think there would be buyers?”

They said: “Yes.” Xiao Jiang added: “Even though there are many oranges, Fuklu County would be the first with this. You could grade them into tiers too — some priced higher, some lower.” She rattled off more ideas, then caught herself — she had said far more than Zhang Xiangu, who was the senior here. She had been reckless. She quickly fell silent.

Zhù Ying said: “Not going to the capital. Trying it in the home prefecture first.”

“Hm? Why?” Zhang Xiangu asked.

Zhù Ying said: “First — the capital is too far, the costs of getting goods there are high, and we have no way of knowing conditions there. Better to start where we have more control, close to home. Second — Fuklu County can’t rely solely on oranges, but once it makes money, people will rush to plant more. I need to pace it carefully and keep control of the land.”

Qi Niangzi said: “Right — if there’s too much of something, it loses value.”

Zhù Ying shook her head: “That’s not the whole of it. There’s also grain. Fuklu County cannot abandon grain for oranges.”

Qi Niangzi said, somewhat puzzled: “But with money, you could just buy grain.”

Zhù Ying smiled: “First — grain must be submitted to the imperial treasury. Second — can the whole county just buy grain to eat? Third — why would anyone sell it to you? And at what price? Even if you could buy, you’d need to have grain in hand — at least enough to half fill your stomach — before you could afford anything else. Otherwise, you have money in your pocket and they’re charging you fifty coins a dou. You’d starve without it — so do you pay or not? Five hundred coins? You won’t become immortal from eating it, but without it you’ll become a starved ghost.

The Son of Heaven said, ‘Gold and silver are no substitute for food when you are hungry or clothing when you are cold’ — that was not an empty formality. He was speaking the truth. Consider this: take a room, fill it floor to ceiling with gold and silver, then strip a person naked and lock them inside, without food or water, without letting them out. Then you’ll understand the weight of those words.

Never be deceived by things that only add to abundance.”

Qi Niangzi turned the words over in her mind and asked: “But aren’t they all subjects of His Majesty? How could anyone make that kind of cruel profit…”

Zhù Ying said: “His Majesty doesn’t like anyone tampering with grain either. Even if grain could be transported in — what if the rains wash out the roads, grain can’t get through, and there’s nothing to eat? What if you stockpile grain, but there’s a bad harvest everywhere, and no one has any to sell? Let me say one more thing: the wealthy hold fields stretching to the horizon while the poor have not a foot of ground to stand on — and yet they are all His Majesty’s subjects. But those who cry ‘equalize wealth, divide the land’ are rebels. Aren’t they? Food in the belly — it can’t depend on others.”

Qi Niangzi had never farmed a day in her life. She had grown up inside the capital, her father drawing a salary from his yamen post — the rice in her household had grown from the columns of her father’s abacus. It was the last thing Zhù Ying said that finally made things clear to her, and she nodded.

“All of this needs to be organized by me personally — setting the rules so that grain is not sacrificed, while still generating additional income alongside it.”

Huajie said: “That’ll take real effort. You’d need large landowners to manage it effectively — but the moment you show favor to large landowners, the small farmers and scattered households lose out.”

Zhù Ying said: “Right — which is exactly why I haven’t moved on it yet. I need to look into it more. Besides, some of the oranges are still sour. Now — nothing decided tonight, so don’t let any of this get out.”

They all said: “Yes!”

Zhang Xiangu spoke quickly: “Even if I wanted to say something, I couldn’t explain it to anyone outside.” By now she could follow much of the conversation; speaking it was another matter. Qi Niangzi and the others agreed they would keep it strictly to themselves. They had no one particular to tell anyway — Qi Niangzi was too busy worrying about her father; the others each had their own concerns.

Only Xiao Jiang moved through the world with ease in conversation — and she too was a person whose lips were sealed tight. At that moment she was deeply pleased, feeling that talking with Zhù Ying now was vastly different from before. She made up her mind to do more for Zhù Ying going forward.

——

Xiao Jiang was an intelligent person. Zhù Ying had told her not to keep close watch on the Zhao residence, so she stopped going into their house — instead she wandered to places like the market and listened to what was being talked about among the townspeople. She also wanted to listen to commercial gossip and trade talk, and about oranges and such. After all, the Lucky Orange was just riding on Fuklu County’s name — anything else produced in Fuklu County should be able to do the same. Were there other things more suitable than oranges?

Xiao Jiang had become absorbed in the idea. She recited the coroner’s mnemonics as she walked about the town. Zhù Ying heard about this and let it be with a smile. She was glad to see Xiao Jiang starting a new life.

Then, not two days later, Xiao Jiang came back with a scrape on her forehead, a large tear in her sleeve, and a worn-through patch at her knee — and had been brought home by Zhao Niangzi and Zhao Su.

Zhù Ying was in the middle of preparing for the New Year. With the New Year, the yamen would seal its official stamp and go on holiday. She was taking advantage of the time before the seal was set to clear up any outstanding matters so she could rest easy.

Xiao Wu came running in: “Magistrate — Jiang Daniangzi has been hurt! Zhao Niangzi has also tied up a man and a woman and brought them over!”

Zhù Ying, since no drum had been beaten at the gate, did not go to the main hall but stepped out to see what was happening. Xiao Jiang’s injury was minor, but her face was flushed red with anger. Zhao Niangzi was also cursing: “What kind of creatures are these! Running wild like this! They deserve to have their hands cut off!”

Zhao Su hurriedly pulled his mother aside: “A’Ma — you can’t do that here!”

The young woman Zhù Ying had seen in the market was also in the group, though she had not said a word, standing quietly behind Zhao Niangzi and watching.

Zhù Ying looked at the party and instantly understood why Xiao Wu had said “a man and a woman.” Of all the people present, only these two stood apart from the rest. They were dark-complexioned, short, and thin, their clothes full of patches and bodies covered in road dust, and they were bound with rope.

Zhao Su came forward to greet Zhù Ying and explained in a few words: “I was accompanying my mother to shop at a store when we came across this man beating and cursing his wife in the street. Jiang Niangzi was outraged and stepped in to stop him, and he shoved her to the ground.”

The man, now that he was at the yamen, didn’t dare make trouble anymore. Still, he kept up a stream of filthy words at the woman beside him: “You wretched woman — it’s all because of you I’ve got this trouble, wait till we get home and see what I do to you.”

Xiao Jiang was red to the collar with fury: “Cursing his wife in the street with filth like that…”

Zhù Ying understood well enough why Xiao Jiang had felt compelled to intervene. She first said to Zhao Niangzi: “I’m grateful for your trouble.” Zhao Niangzi actually had a good impression of Xiao Jiang and put in a few words on her behalf: “Quiet when it doesn’t matter, but when it does, she has a temper — good!” Then she cursed the man for being no kind of decent person.

The man, seeing Zhù Ying, latched onto her as though she were a lifeline: “Magistrate! Save me! This tribal woman is trying to harm good townspeople!”

Zhù Ying found this amusing: “Where? Where is she?”

Xiao Jiang and the others couldn’t help laughing. Zhao Niangzi stopped being angry. Zhù Ying said: “Striking someone in the street — twenty strikes.”

Xiao Wu had learned her ways by now and echoed the call: “Twenty!”

In Zhù Ying’s practice, twenty strikes of the board was the opening move. She sometimes wondered whether He Jing had been like her — starting from the bottom as a local official before being transferred to the capital prefecture.

The man set up a howl of injustice. The woman, who had been weeping silently all this time, also cried out: “Magistrate, please don’t beat him!”

Zhù Ying was entirely calm. Zhao Niangzi, however, was baffled: “Have you lost your mind?”

The woman wept: “Marry a man for clothes and food — the family depends on him to support us.”

Xiao Jiang, hearing this from a woman she had gotten into trouble defending, fumed: “Can’t you support yourself? Magistrate — when I came across them, the carrying pack was on her back!”

“Mistress — you’re a good person, a fortunate person. How would you know what it’s like for us? Even if you beat him badly, others will still bully me. I’ll still be treated badly.”

Zhao Niangzi flared up too: “Pathetic.” Zhao Su also said: “Beating his wife — no kind of man!”

The man said: “What husband doesn’t beat his wife?”

Zhù Ying said: “I see. Forget the twenty then. And you, wife — stop crying. I’ll kill this one for you, and you can find a man who doesn’t beat you. Wouldn’t that be better?”

Xiao Wu, with the Tong brothers, dragged out the long bench and the boards. The man who’d just said “what husband doesn’t beat his wife?” went pale immediately, his eyes going blank: “Magistrate — Magistrate — I’ll never do it again!”

The woman was also frightened out of her senses: “Magistrate… if he dies, I can’t go on living either… I’d just find another man who beats me…”

Zhù Ying raised an eyebrow: “Fine. The New Year is coming — killing isn’t a good omen. But I said what I said, and the beating still happens.”

The man was flogged. Then both husband and wife were released.

Zhù Ying said to Xiao Jiang: “Don’t be upset. Teaching and transforming people does not happen in a day.”

Zhao Niangzi, who still felt Zhù Ying was too soft, cut in: “The more it’s nearly the New Year, the more you should kill a few people to—”

Zhao Su hurriedly steered his mother aside and said to Zhù Ying: “Your student takes his leave.”

——

Xiao Jiang’s injuries were slight, and she was treated at the yamen. Huajie fetched some medicine and sent the little dark girl to bring it over. Zhang Xiangu said: “Oh dear — one of the two girls already hurt, and they’ll be going home to a cold stove and have to build a fire from scratch. Stay and eat here tonight.”

She kept Xiao Jiang over.

Xiao Jiang sat at the dinner table with a conspicuous patch of plaster on her head. Zhù Da took one look at the assembled company and immediately felt he was in the way. He picked up his bowl and said: “I’ll go drink with young Qi and the others.”

This was the first time Xiao Jiang had eaten here, and she had managed to drive the host’s father from his own table. She felt deeply unsettled, and even the anger from earlier in the day had slipped from her mind. She stood up again, twisting her handkerchief.

Zhang Xiangu said: “Don’t mind him! That’s just how he is. Our table is all people who don’t drink. Now, that head of yours — how is it?”

Xiao Jiang said quietly: “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” It was a small wound. She could bear it.

“Honestly — you shouldn’t have tried to stop him yourself. You should have come back and found Xiao Wu.”

Xiao Jiang shook her head.

Zhù Ying said: “It’s fine now anyway. Let’s eat.”

The table finished quickly. Dà Jiě and the little dark girl cleared the dishes; Qi Niangzi brought tea. The group sat and drank tea and talked.

Zhang Xiangu saw that Xiao Jiang still looked a little agitated, and said to Zhù Ying: “The man got his twenty strikes, didn’t he? Is there something else still bothering her?”

Xiao Jiang hurried to say: “It has nothing to do with the Magistrate. I’m just being petty.”

Zhang Xiangu laughed: “That’s not being petty! Anyone who saw a man like that would be upset!”

Xiao Jiang said: “What I’m more upset about is the woman!”

Huajie asked: “What did she… do?”

Xiao Jiang said indignantly: “She was pleading for him!”

Zhù Ying said to Xiao Jiang: “Can’t blame her either — she doesn’t know how she’d manage otherwise. She has to depend on someone else for her food too.” Huajie nodded silently, thinking of how hard it was for a widow to get by.

Xiao Jiang thought to herself that she would rather starve than endure such treatment from a man again — but she didn’t want to contradict Zhù Ying, and so she sat in brooding silence.

Zhang Xiangu’s thoughts had drifted back to the past: “Women have it hard! Sanlang — what can be done about it?”

Zhù Ying said: “All I could do was teach that man a lesson.”

Xiao Jiang said: “I’m afraid he’ll go home even angrier and take it out on her worse. That woman herself won’t fight for her own dignity — there’s nothing to be done.”

Zhù Ying said: “Eat from someone’s hand, answer to someone’s authority. She eats her husband’s food, so she answers to her husband.”

“But he can’t beat her in the street.” Zhang Xiangu muttered.

Zhù Ying said: “Mm. Let me think of something.”

Zhang Xiangu said: “There’s no cure for a man who beats his wife. Praying to the Bodhisattva won’t fix it. Only if he dies.”

Qi Niangzi looked around at everyone and said: “It’s all fate.”

Zhù Ying said: “You’re so young — how did you come to think this way? I don’t accept that fate. And none of you should either.”

Qi Niangzi looked from face to face, genuinely unable to understand why the conversation had taken such a strange turn. “But — ethical principles and the natural order — isn’t that how it is?” And besides — the Magistrate was a man herself. Why was she saying all this?

Zhù Ying said: “If a person says on one hand ‘do the nobles and generals come from noble blood?’ and ‘don’t look down on a young person in poverty’ and ‘a true man will one day have lands and rank’ — and on the other hand tells you to ‘accept your fate’ — that person is rotten to the core. If you ever meet someone like that, stay as far away as you can.”

Huajie and Xiao Jiang said at the same time: “Exactly!”

They looked at each other briefly, then each looked away again.

Qi Niangzi felt she almost understood now. She thought: the Magistrate really is a man of true integrity!

Zhang Xiangu had originally kept everyone talking simply because it wasn’t proper to send people away right after dinner. Now she felt that tonight’s gathering — especially with Huajie and Xiao Jiang both present — had gone on long enough. She got up and faked a yawn: “Oh my, I’m getting old. I can’t sit any longer. I’m going to sleep.”

The women dispersed. Zhù Ying thought: that was far too obvious — and on top of that, it was barely past dinner. Wasn’t she afraid of indigestion lying down so soon?

She said nothing, and went to walk Xiao Jiang and the little dark girl out.

——

What had seemed like a minor episode passed — but Xiao Jiang noticed that Zhù Ying, who should have been enjoying the holiday, was growing busier and busier. In a remote place like this, the break was longer than in the capital, and a county magistrate could take extra days whenever she pleased. But Zhù Ying would not. She was always in the outer study, or burrowing into the storerooms in the yamen where archives and census records were kept.

Xiao Jiang felt increasingly anxious inside. She didn’t know Zhù Ying well — but she was perceptive and sensitive. Having eaten one meal at the Zhù household, she had returned afterward feeling she had overstepped that day. And seeing Zhù Ying working when she ought to be resting made her more uneasy still.

The little dark girl was worried about her and quietly told Zhang Xiangu that Xiao Jiang had been saying at home that she had been too presumptuous.

Zhang Xiangu told the little dark girl: “Xiao Jiang is a good person. She just hasn’t opened up yet. She thinks too much. Just relax and live as before!”

Zhang Xiangu and Xiao Jiang were barely acquainted — they had eaten one meal together and had no shared daily life beyond that. Yet Xiao Jiang felt she must have done something wrong, and wanted to go to the front yamen to find Zhù Ying.

But before she could, Zhù Ying sent Xiao Wu to summon her.

Zhù Ying’s study door was still open. Xiao Jiang looked around the room — maps and registers, sheets of writing everywhere.

Zhù Ying said: “You’ve come. Sit.” Xiao Jiang sat down. Xiao Wu brought tea. Then Zhù Ying came to the point: “In your wandering around these past days, have you noticed any ways in the county that might benefit women in terms of livelihood?”

Seeing that Xiao Jiang looked hesitant, Zhù Ying asked: “What is it?”

Xiao Jiang said: “Magistrate — don’t put too much effort into things that concern women. You need to focus on managing the county well first. Official assessments don’t look at how women are doing — they look at tax revenue, auspicious omens, and connections to superiors. Women’s affairs aren’t considered important…”

“When you are not free, I am not at ease.” Zhù Ying said.

Xiao Jiang said anxiously: “I was wrong about that. I was being impulsive before. Don’t think about me. Everyone knows — you are a good person.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong either. What I’m talking about now is serious business — and it’s not for any one person’s sake.” Zhù Ying said. “Aren’t women part of Fuklu County too? If they live well, doesn’t that benefit Fuklu County? Look — the grain yield isn’t as good as other places, the mountains are many, money is hard to earn.”

Zhù Ying felt rather hemmed in — Fuklu County’s conditions had her boxed in on all sides, and she had never before faced such a difficult situation to break out of. She was talking to Xiao Jiang and sorting through her own thinking at the same time.

“Isn’t that very difficult? You…”

“I do what I can, and find some way forward. That’s why I’m asking — what have you found? Of all these people, you know Fuklu County best.”

Xiao Jiang shook her head: “I know too. Fuklu County is bad in every direction. When are you going to finish this? You should find a way to get transferred back to the capital.”

Zhù Ying shook her head: “I am not going to run away! Rich or poor, man or woman — full granaries lead to a sense of propriety. I want to try it. People in the capital seem much more enlightened than those in Fuklu County.

Fuklu County’s soil is not fertile, and opening mountain roads is work women’s strength isn’t suited for. If she can’t support herself, and even when she can — even with every intention of living a decent life — there are still people who would steal from her, rob her, take advantage of her. If you can steal and rob, why would you bother with honest hard labor?

And then there are the orange sellers… they’re not women, are they — and yet can it be said they lack the willingness to endure hardship? They already endure plenty. To make these people able to live something like a human life — I don’t know how much effort it would take, how many years. A hundred years? A thousand? Perhaps I’ll fail to see it through myself. Their lives will still hold countless bitter days to slog through. The next life and the life after that will still be far inferior to the capital.

And yet I cannot go a single day without doing what is right. When I see a person weeping, I feel sympathy for their grief and am willing to call out on their behalf — rather than stand by watching and taking pleasure in their misfortune. Rather than saying ‘accept your fate, this is reality, there are still a thousand and eight hundred years of stone tablets left to carry.’ Rather than keeping my hands folded behind my back. Even if I know they will still carry those tablets for a thousand and eight hundred years — I must say: this is wrong. Wrong is wrong. Even if all I manage is to land one kick on that wretched stone tablet — I have not come to this world for nothing. Someday, someone will be able to smash that tablet to pieces. If my footprint isn’t on it, I will feel the loss.”

Xiao Jiang suddenly stood up. She walked to Zhù Ying and opened her arms — wrapping her in an embrace.

Xiao Jiang smiled: “Don’t misunderstand. This has nothing to do with romance.”

Zhù Ying patted her on the back.